


Not Enough

by orphan_account



Category: Animorphs - Katherine A. Applegate
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-19
Updated: 2012-12-19
Packaged: 2017-11-21 15:21:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/599279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Elfangor lies dying, the Ellimist grants him a little piece of what he wants most: his family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Enough

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



Elfangor is dying.

 

I can do nothing about this, as much as it pains me.

 

And the boy. The boy is there, a witness to his father’s savage murder.

 

He was always a troubled boy.

 

Twisting the threads of time as I can, I can look back and see where the trouble began.

 

When I tore his father from him. When I tore him from his mother.

 

I move forward. The boy is five Earth years old. The child is deeply troubled this morning. This is not unusual behaviour, of course – the boy is more often upset than happy, not only due to his environment, but so too his nature.

 

He is too like his father for his own good. Elfangor had always been an introspective, pensive creature and it appeared that Tobias had inherited that trait without ever so much as meeting his father. It’s odd, the way genetics work. My own children never seemed to inherit such things from me…

 

Then again, my children were primitive Andalites, not relatively-evolved humans with a slight trace of alien DNA – so small it could not even be traced – flowing through their veins.

 

But the child is troubled. Which worries me. He has a difficult future ahead of him, a future which will require him to have a certain level of emotional strength. He will, of course, not know how strong he truly is until he begins to fight. But will that be enough? The majority of strong personalities have at least one positive figure in their lives at some point, even if only for a short while. Tobias would have none of these.

 

But what to do? I cannot restore his mother to him – it would break The Rules. Nor can I permanently return Elfangor to Earth.

 

But now, at the moment of Elfangor’s death, I could grant him one small kindness.

 

YOU CAN HAVE ONE HOUR WITH HIM, ELFANGOR-SIRINIAL-SHAMTUL. THAT IS ALL.

 

Elfangor looked angrier than I’d ever seen him. He was practically vibrating with rage. I could tell that he wanted to protest, to banter for more time – forever, if he could. But I also knew that he would say nothing. Although he would never admit it, deep down Elfangor was a little afraid of me, of my power. That I would become angry and not let him see Tobias at all. Or worse, erase Tobias’s existence all together.

 

That surprised me – was he not concerned for himself? No, only in the way that if I erased him, it would erase his son’s existence by default.

 

Interesting. Elfangor has never even met his son, yet Tobias is still the most important thing in creation to him. Elfangor was a good father.

 

Well, would have been…

 

< Only one Earth hour? >

 

It took me a moment to realise that Elfangor was speaking to me. His voice was tense with both fear and defiance. To my surprise – indeed, Elfangor has never stopped surprising me – the defiance was the dominant emotion. Surely he hadn’t already figured out…

 

No. His face showed only defiance and anger, driven by the separation anxiety caused by the forced disconnection from his wife and child. Nothing more.

 

I don’t know why, but I was relieved.

 

YES, ONE EARTH HOUR. NO MORE, NO LESS.

 

< So, when do I–>

 

I sent him away before he could finish his sentence.

 

 

**~*~**

<–leave? >

 

Elfangor looked around, slightly panicked at his sudden change of surrounds, before immediately relaxing. < Aren’t these the woods where…>

 

YES. I answered simply. TOBIAS IS CURRENTLY RESIDING WITH HIS UNCLE IN…

 

< HIS _UNCLE_?! HOW COULD YOU, YOU… > And he cut himself off, obviously realising what this fact meant.

 

Elfangor always has been clever.

 

< Why…why is he living with…that… _creature_? Where…where is Loren?  >

 

I did not respond. I felt that it was wiser not to.

 

< But…if he cannot live with his mother, then…why his uncle? Why him? > Elfangor said finally, the pleading tone in his voice the same as it was six years before when I returned him to the Andalites. < Why not…why not his grandmother? Or…or to a nice married couple looking to adopt? Why put him with Peter? That ignorant barbarian will surely harm him! >

 

I was amazed by how vehement Elfangor was being about this – he was indeed _begging_ that I change this, that I place Tobias in a happier and more stable environment. It was…unusual, to say the least, that an Andalite War-Prince would so much as ask politely for something without so much as a single threat, let alone _beg_. But Elfangor was a good father, and his chief duty was to the wellbeing of his offspring.

 

And again I felt a terrible guilt: without my interference, Elfangor would still be on Earth. Yes, the war with the Yeerks would undoubtedly go on for longer, but Tobias would not be without his father, Loren would not be without her sight or memory, and Elfangor would not be doomed to a mixed fate of insanity and death.

 

But Earth would have its fighting chance this way – an _easier_ time, anyway, if things went well.

 

_If._

 

IT IS THE WAY IT MUST BE, ELFANGOR. I AM SORRY.

 

Elfangor laughed bitterly. < You’re not sorry. What would you know about the pain I feel? Do you even _have_ offspring, Ellimist?  >

 

My answer was out before I could stop it. YES, I DO.

 

Despite myself, I was still pleased to see the look of pure surprise in Elfangor’s eyes. < Have you ever been forcibly parted from them? > he snarled.

 

NO. I admitted. BUT I AM OFFERING YOU AN OPPORTUNITY TO SEE YOUR CHILD, ELFANGOR. I WAS UNDER THE IMPRESSION YOU WERE GOING TO ACCEPT IT.

 

< I have accepted it.> Elfangor snapped. < What are the conditions of this… _visit_?  >

 

CONDITIONS, ELFANGOR?

 

< Yes, Ellimist, _conditions_. There are always _conditions_ with you. Much like there is never a straight answer.  >

 

YOU WILL BE ALLOWED TO SPEND ONE EARTH HOUR WITH YOUR SON, IN HUMAN FORM, AND THEN YOU WILL LEAVE.

 

< And if I don’t leave voluntarily, I will be forcibly removed? >

 

YES. What else could I say?

 

< All right, Ellimist. Let us indulge in your kind-hearted nature. >

 

 

**~*~**

 

I watched as his body shifted and changed into the form of Alan Fangor, a man who had lived on Earth for many years…yet whom no one would recognise, due to my interference.

 

I am yet to see proof that doing so was justified.

 

It is the Game that Crayak and I play that resulted in this – the fates of trillions of lives depend on Elfangor being at one particular place at one particular time. If he is not, not only will the Yeerks win, but so will Crayak.

 

But Crayak, after all these millennia, still doesn’t understand the most basic, driving force in the universe.

 

The basic drive that kept Elfangor fighting until the very end. That will keep these children – the Animorphs – battling the evil that will crush almost everything in its path to crush the human into submission. That will keep the human Eva fighting the Yeerk who has stolen her life, her family, her everything.

 

Love.

 

**~*~**

 

So strange to be here. So strange to be breathing this air again, standing on my two legs again, as Alan Fangor. I brought my five-fingered hand up to my face. Nose. Mouth. Two eyes. I stood silently for a few moments, just breathing. Finally, I inhaled deeply and looked around me.

 

I was in a small brown room. Dark except for a window to one side. I know what was coming, but I still jerked in surprise as my gaze came to rest on the little boy sitting on the edge of the bed. His back was turned to me. I could feel my single heart pounding in my throat. For a few moments, I just stared. Waves of emotion so powerful that I shook rolled through me.

 

This little boy… this tiny person… it wasn’t love in any way that I had ever experienced. This was utter, involuntary, absolute. This was cell deep, in every fibre of my being, unconditional.

  
I took in every detail that I could see; the exact color of his hair, the way he was slightly hunched over into himself, the way his ribs rose and fell as he breathed.

 

I tried my voice. It had been years since I’d spoken out loud. Nothing. I tried again.

 

“Tobias?”

 

He started, scared. He turned and, for the first time ever, I saw his face. It was a small, sad, painfully beautiful face. We stared into each other’s eyes for a long time. I couldn’t make myself look away. I didn’t want to.

 

The alarm left his eyes as he studied my face. Finally, he replied, “Who are you?” Not a hint of accusation or fear.

 

 “My name is Alan.” I couldn’t think what else to say. He considered for a moment.

 

“Do you want to sit down?” he asked.

 

“Thank you.” I moved slowly toward him, slightly wobbly. I was no longer accustomed to moving on just two legs. I sat down next to him. We stared at each other in silence a few moments more.

 

Then he asked, “What are you doing here?”

 

“I am here to make sure you are well.” I answered.

 

He smiled. “You talk funny.”

 

I smiled too. “So I’ve been told.” I paused. “Are you alright, Tobias?”

 

He shook his head.

 

 “What’s wrong?”

 

 Silence. “Peter’s always so mean and loud. I miss Mommy.”

 

From my dealings with Peter, I knew that loud meant drunk.

 

“Where is Mommy?” I asked softly. I was afraid of his answer.

 

 “Away.” I tried not to think about what that might mean. Was she hospitalized? Dead? Missing? Oh Loren, be here with me and give me the strength to comfort this child whose spirit is broken because of you and me.

 

 “For how long?” He shrugged his little shoulders and looked at me sadly.

 

“Would you like to take a walk with me, Tobias?” He nodded eagerly. I took his hand and lead him to the door. Cautiously, I poked my head through the frame and looked around. Peter was snoring soundly on the couch. I motioned to Tobias to be silent, and we crept across the living room, out the front door and into the bright morning.


End file.
